Episode three, "Proteus" is named for the shape shifting sea-god of Greek mythology who appears in Homer's Odyssey. Just as the Homeric characters Telemachus and Nestor serve as clues or keys to the episodes that bear their names, so too does Proteus. So, just as you have (hopefully) been able to make connections between episode name episode for "Telemachus" and "Nestor", the same should hold true for "Proteus".
However, this brand of iconography or assigning associative meanings presents yet another obstacle for first time readers. On the one hand, knowing how, for example, Proteus the character relates to "Proteus" the episode sheds a great deal of light both on the episode itself as well as the book as a whole. On the other hand, if you don't know in advance the role of Proteus in Homer's Odyssey, you have to take time away from reading Ulysses in order to research this factoid - something I don't encourage doing for a first read. This is one reason why I recommend reading the Odyssey before reading Ulysses. And as tempting as it is to simply tell you the associations, I'm not going to be that guy.
What I will say re "Proteus" is that it is all about Proteus. Proteus - the god and his unique gifts - is very strongly associated with the the form and meaning of episode three. So, if you happen to be cruising the Internets as you are prone to do, say, like now, and the idea occurs to you, I would recommend a quick Wik (that is Wikipedia) of old Proteus. Just a peek. Two minutes. That's all. But don't interrupt your reading for it!
Form of forms
My lasting memory of my first reading of this episode is reading the first couple of paragraphs and thinking to myself "what the hell is this!?" When I decided to take on Ulysses I gave myself an out clause: if I hated the book after the first three episodes, or if I thought it was a waste of my time, I could abandoned the project, feeling like I gave it a fair shot. The caveat was, I had to finish the first three episodes. So there I was, confronted with the ineluctable modality of the visible with my two feet in his boots, at the ends of his legs, nebeneinander. What is a boy to do? But I was committed, so I pushed onward, along Sandymount strand, experiencing a moment in fictional time through Stephen's eyes and Stephen's thoughts.
By the time the threemaster sailed along and I was embarking on episode four, I was completely lost, and completely hooked. Whether or not to continue on was a no-brainer.
As challenging a read as it was, "Proteus" was (and has remained) one of my favorite episodes in Ulysses. I have little doubt that, if you are a first time reader, this episode will present many of the same challenges for you as it did for me. Foremost among these - as has been the theme up to this point in the blog - is the problem of narrative voice. One of the reasons I really focused on style and narrative voice in the first two episode blogs was in anticipation of the third. It's quite possible that I have magnified the difficulty of this aspect of the book, and maybe you are having far fewer issues with narrative than I have presumed. But in my own experience (as well as the experience of other first time readers I have known) figuring out who is saying what when and why can stop you in your tracks*. Through experience, I have found that if you can smooth out this particular bumpy road in the text, other issues are easier to focus on and the going is a lot easier.
*the lack of commas here is intentional
What's new?
So, considering all of the crack instruction that you have thus far received from me vis-a-vis narrative voice, stream of consciousness, interior monologue and the like, this episode should be a piece of cake right? After all, as I'm sure you've noticed, this entire episode is one big interior monologue. (Well, most of it, minus the smattering of third person narrative here and there). Really, if you want a textbook example of stream of consciousness writing, then look no further than "Proteus".
Hopefully I'm not revealing any great mystery when I say that Stephen is walking along Sandymount strand, and his thoughts are well nigh streaming out of his head. The fluidity and changeability of his thoughts mimic the way we all think as we go about our daily activities, particularly during solitary moments. This is how stream of consciousness works, in literature and real life. Many of Stephen's thoughts are associative, triggered by things that he sees, or branching off of other thoughts. Thus his mind wanders as he wanders, and we are brought along for the ride. So far, so good. Easy right?
Okay, let's put aside for the moment the difficulty of deciphering meanings from the dozens of allusions which tumble out of Stephen's skull in fragmentary form. In fact let's put aside deciphering, period. Instead, we'll focus on... that's right! Narrative voice!
I reckon that things go pretty smoothly (relatively speaking) until we get to this point: "His pace slackened. Here. Am I going to aunt Sara's or not?" From this point, for a couple of pages, the narrative becomes a ball of confusion as Joyce tosses us a new narrative grenade to explode in our faces (Shattering glass and toppling masonry! The ruin of all space, and time one livid final flame!). Let's break this down a little:
His pace slackened. Here. Am I going to aunt Sara's or not? My consubstantial father's voice. Did you see anything of your artist brother Stephen lately? No? etcetera...
Okay (assuming that each punctuation mark ends a sentence), first sentence: third person narration. Second, third, and fourth sentences: Stephen's IM. Fifth and sixth sentences: Stephen's IM of his father speaking about him (i.e. In his head Stephen is imitating or imagining or hearing his father's voice).
The confusion begins with the voice of Simon Dedalus in Stephen's head. Confusing in part because Joyce does not bother to separate it out from the other narrative elements around it. The remainder of the above quoted paragraph is Stephen running this imagined dialogue of his father through his head. This is then followed by Stephen imagining the scene of his visit to his aunt Sara's house. Mercifully, Joyce gives us dialogue dashes (--) to set this narrative apart, clearly marking it as a dialogue. Unfortunately, he doesn't clue us in on the fact that this is only an imagined scenario, or that the dialogue takes place in Stephen's head. If one is not careful, (and I was not careful through my first two readings) it is entirely possible to assume that Stephen is actually at his aunt Sara's house, uncomfortably refusing a whusky! from nuncle Richie. And that makes an already difficult episode, three times as hard*.
*Actual degree of difficulty may vary from reader to reader.
Umm... what else...
Well, along the same lines we also have a remembered conversation with Patrice Egan (the son of Kevin Egan), and later another remembered conversation with Kevin Egan (father of Patrice Egan). It is interesting to note that Joyce employs a different narrative style for Stephen's memory of Kevin Egan, choosing not to use the dialogue dashes. I think this is a very effective style choice considering what Joyce is aiming to convey, but this section may come across as a bit confusing to the reader. I don't think JAJ was hugely concerned...
Hopefully these plucky but woefully unprofessional attempts to shed light on Joyce's umm... narrative challenges are helpful. Joyce's aim was not to make a kinder and gentler* reading experience for the would be reader of Ulysses. In fact, I'm fairly confident that extreme difficulty was part of his strategy. But it's also part if the fun of reading Ulysses. This ain't a classic's classic for nuthin'.
*in the vernacular of our time
Prose Pick: "In long lassoes from the Cock lake the water flowed full, covering greengoldeny lagoons of sand, rising, flowing." - have you ever read a more eloquent (or humorous) description of a guy taking a piss? No. You haven't.
Raw notes:
• "World without end."
• "The man with my voice and my eyes...
• ... and a ghost woman with ashes on her breath.
• "... The divine substance wherein Father and Son are consubstantial..."
• "His pace slackened. Here. Am I going to aunt Sara's or not?" - the passage that follows is one of the most confusing, I think. What's going on here?
• "How the head center got away. Authentic version. Got up as a young bride, man, veil, orangeblossoms, drove ou the roadt to Malahide. Did, faith"
• "I will not sleep there when this night comes"
• "A bloated carcass of a dog lay lolled on bladderwrack" - dogsbody...
• "Open hallway. Street of harlots. Remember. Haroun al Rashid... That man led me, spoke. I was not afraid... In. Come. Red carpet spread. You will see who."
• "Behind. Perhaps there is someone."
• "... Followed by the sun's flaming sword, trekking to evening lands."
• "Now where the blue hell am I bringing her beyond the veil?"
• "Bet she wears those curse of God stays suspenders and yellow stockings, darned with lumpy wool."
• "But you were delighted when Esther Oswalt's shoe went on you."
• "... hissing up their petticoats"
• "God becomes man becomes fish becomes barnacle goose becomes feathbed mountain."
• "A seachange this, brown eyes saltblue."
• "To evening lands. Evening will find itself."
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